A Life Worth Living
by CaskettBuddies
Summary: Richard Rodgers has struggled his whole life, through his mother's disappearance and being forced to live with his alcoholic uncle, to being forced onto the streets of New York City. He has never known the meaning of home. At least not until he met her; Kate Beckett. Disclaimer: No characters you recognise are ours. Our first ever collaboration. Rated T for safety. COMPLETELY AU
1. Chapter 1

_Richard Rodgers has struggled his whole life, through his mother's disappearance and being forced to live with his alcoholic uncle, to being forced onto the streets of New York City. He has never known the meaning of home. At least not until he met her; Kate Beckett._

**Tabatha's Author's Note: This is an extremely AU fanfiction and some of the characters are completely OOC at the beginning but will slowly develop more into character as it goes on, and some aspects of the characters storylines have been altered. This is my first collaboration with the amazing Ellie, who has always been there for me through thick and thin. So please be gentle but be critical.**

NONE OF THE CHARACTERS BELONG TO ELLIE OR I. WE ARE JUST BORROWING THEM AND TWISTING THEM FOR FUN. ALL CHARACTERS YOU RECOGNISE BELONG TO THE SHOW WRITERS.

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><p>People think of New York City and they think of Broadway and neon lights, of the bustle of people on the streets and the tail-to-tail traffic. The Big Apple, the City that Never Sleeps. But nobody really thinks of the slums or the alleyways between the buildings, and more specifically, the people that live there. Hell, most people don't think of those in <em>any<em> the chance that they do, they either ridicule them or they throw money at them with some pitying remark and not a second glance.

It was no different for him.

Most of the time, he sits in the space between a coffee shop and some small lawyer's office, huddled up with his legs drawn up to his chest with his head leaned back and resting on the wall. Here he isn't bothered by the angry yells of restaurant managers who are throwing out the trash or the scowls thrown at him by passersby. Mostly he is just ignored, invisible to the people rushing to and from wherever it is they're going. That is how he's spent most of his life - invisible, that or hiding from the drunken rage of his uncle. The few friends he had inevitably left for one reason or another, so it isn't like it's anything new. His whole life he has been almost completely alone.

It is early in the morning on a cold Monday sometime in late November and the weather is bitter and dull, his thin coat doing almost nothing against the biting cold. As usual, his mind has begun to wander, listening to the sounds of the few people passing by at this early hour, never looking up, never asking for anything from anyone, preparing to get through another day. He only looks up when he hears the clack of high-heeled clack of shoes stop next to him. He dares to glance up and standing before him is a woman, and _God_ she's gorgeous. A mile high with long caramel colored curls softly framing her face. And her beautiful hazel-green eyes are looking at him, actually _looking _at him in a way he doesn't think anyone has ever looked at him. It's like for the first time in his pitiful life someone was actually looking _within _him.

He thinks he feels his heart stop.

She doesn't normally go to this coffee shop, usually just going for the piss-poor crap that passes for coffee at the precinct. But last night had been rough and she hadn't gotten much sleep so today, she needed the good stuff.

She is about to step into the shop when she spots him.

He's young, very young. Maybe late twenties to early thirties. He's curled up against the wall, knees drawn up with his arms banding around them, his shoulders hunched in a feeble attempt to block out the cold, which his miserable excuse for a coat was completely useless against. Even from here she can see the gauntness to his face, the sunken-in quality around his eyes and the light scruff that covers his jaws. His hair is thick and shaggy, dark bangs hanging over his eyes, and falling nearly down to the base of his neck. He's not scrawny but he is definitely thinner than what should be considered healthy. To a normal person, he would look like the typical New York homeless man. To anybody but her.

His whole being radiated misery. His curled up figure looking as if he was trying to protect himself from more than just the cold. His eyes had a hollowness to it that spoke of years of pain and loneliness. He looked defeated. Like the world had thrown too much shit at him and he decided it wasn't worth it to fight anymore

This is what she sees. Because she has felt all of it herself. To this degree? Of course not. She had people to pull her back up after her mother's death, but for this man-it looked like he had suffered an entire war alone.

After a minute, the man seemed to notice she was there and glanced up at her. She had to keep herself from taking a step backwards at the look in his eyes. There was so much pain, so much loneliness and longing mixed in with a swirl of others that she couldn't name. He was not like the other homeless people she had encountered. He didn't beg for money he didn't give her some pathetic story to gain sympathy. He just sat there looking as if he wished he was anywhere but there. No, his eyes were the begging of a different kind - a begging for everything to end and it just about broke her heart.

When they say eyes are the window to the soul, they aren't lying. His eyes bore into hers as she stands there. The tragically beautiful blue orbs swallowing her in, like bottomless oceans she could get lost in for hours, she could drown in them. She was right. The pain in his eyes was so raw and the fear she saw there as he stared at her struck something deep inside her. No matter what things a person had done in their life, nobody deserves the pain she sees in those eyes. Many things she might wish for them to endure, but not this.

She stared at him for a long time, at the man shivering before her, his fear so prominent. Fear she thinks is of her. But behind that fear she thinks she sees just the slightest shimmer of hope.

The tinkling of the bell on the coffee shop door breaks her out of her trance as she brings her eyes up to the tiny building. With one last glance to the man, she steps into the shop herself.

His heart drops in his chest when she walks away and he suddenly hates himself for being foolish enough to hope. When had anybody ever cared about him? About the worthless man on the streets. He feels the emotions of being rejected swell up in his chest anyways and he has to close his eyes against it.

When he feels the warmth of someone kneeling next to him mere minutes later, he lifts his head and startles, nearly hitting his head on the wall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" she said, her voice quiet and gentle, her eyes soft on his. In her hands was a piping cup of coffee, steam billowing in the air. The smell was glorious and his mouth watered with craving. He flicked his eyes back to her face with incomprehension and nervousness.

People don't do this. No matter how much he hopes, no matter what he does, people don't talk to him; they turned their noses up at him and walk away. But she was. And he wanted to trust her, wanted to talk to her, but he knew now how people betrayed you, turn their back on you. How ironic to hope for something so badly and not be able to accept it when it's right in front of your face.

When he doesn't respond she holds the coffee out in front of her as well as a small paper bag he hadn't seen. "You look like you could use this".

He stared at the goods for a long time, swallowing thickly. He had to force himself not to reach out and grab it.

He remains silent.

She chuckles softly, a friendly sound of amusement low in her throat. She sets the coffee and the bag down beside him and reaches out to briefly touch his leg and he closes his eyes at the touch. "I understand" she says softly, her eyes so bright and intent on his, so kind. She stands and looks down at him for a few seconds more before she speaks again "I'm Kate, by the way".

And with those five words, she slowly walks away, the clack of her heals left ringing in his ear and he can't stop watching, wondering what the hell just happened.

She walks out of sight and his eyes return to the goods at his side and slowly reaches out to grab them. He opens the paper bag and pulls out a warm pastry that smells of freshly baked dough an honey - a bearclaw, he thinks it's called - and his stomach growls in response. He brings the pastry to his mouth and takes a bite. He closes his eyes at the wonderful, rich taste. Never before had he tasted anything like it. The food he manages to scrounge is bearable at best and never easy to come by. He felt like this food was a miracle itself.

He reaches for the coffee, its warmth seeping into his frozen hands. He takes a long, deep gulp and feels the blissfully hot fluid slip down his throat, immediately feeling its warmth zip through his veins.

He slowly finishes the bearclaw and the breakfast, wanting to savor every drop and every bite of it, unsure of when he would get something like it again. He sends up his silent thanks to the sky for whoever that woman was and couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see her again.

But neither of them were aware that today's encounter was one that was going to save his life and put them both on a path he never dared to dream of.


	2. Chapter 2

_Summery: Richard Rodgers has struggled his whole life. Through his mother's disappearance and being forced to live with his alcoholic uncle, to being forced to live on the streets of New York. He has never known the meaning of home; not until he met her._

**A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! Not only is this a first collaboration for us, but this is my first ever time to write fanfiction so your reviews mean a lot! Just so we can get the timeline straight, it is 2014 but it is only 8 years after Kate's mother's murder. She is the same age as when the series started, but Rick will be a little bit younger. Anyways, since this is my first story, suggestions, comments, and constructive criticism are welcome! Just be nice, please**

Her eyes flittered down to the white papers dotted with black ink. That was all she could make out, not the letters, nor words, let alone sentences. Distracted was all she was since she had arrived at the precinct an hour and a half earlier. She checked her watch and frowned. It was only nine in the morning. She felt as if she had been filling out paperwork for hours. She almost wished a body would drop.

She had told her partners to take the day off. It had been a gruelling case-two teenagers, a girl and a boy, were found stuffed in garbage bags and thrown into the Hudson. They came up with dead end after dead end and she had pushed them harder than she normally did, even snapping at them multiple times when her patience began to wear thin. So they deserved the break. Except now that meant being stuck at the precinct alone with a huge stack of papers and a runaway mind.

It was at least the tenth time her hand had found itself shoving her hair back from her face in frustration. She couldn't stop thinking about him, the man in the alleyway. Could not take her mind off his beautiful cerulean blue eyes, the pain and the fear she saw there, the loneliness, the emptiness she knew all too well. She wished there was more she could do for him, but at least she did something, and she hoped that, somehow, it helped.

She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him. In her life she had seen countless homeless people on the street, especially since she had become a cop. But those people were either unstable or hopeless beggars, bugging the general population for money for booze or drugs. None of them were like this man. Subdued. Afraid. Lonely. Curled up as if he wanted to disappear, hide from the world - begging of a different kind. It made her heart clench.

A sigh reluctantly escaped her lips, knowing she was not going to get any of her work done. Not with him planting himself in her mind. Probably warmer in there, she thought darkly.

She thought back to a few years ago, to her own darkness, remembering how lonely she felt and how grateful she was to have had her father. It made it more bearable knowing that she still had him. Did he have anybody?

Finally giving up her futile attempt to finish the paperwork, she pushed back from her desk and headed to the break room. She refilled her cup with the piss-poor excuse for coffee and leaned back on the counter and sighed.

She shouldn't be this worked up over a random stranger that she didn't know. But the fact was, she did. Maybe it was this feeling of connection, maybe it was her need to protect and help people. But whatever the reason, she wanted to help him. Do something to help diminish that haunted look.

She sighed again, running a hand through her hair.

She needed some perspective.

"Katie!" His shocked voice rang in her ear as he picked up her call. Two months. It had been two months since her father had laid eyes on his baby girl. And she thought that maybe it was time to change that.

"You have time for lunch, Dad?

"Yeah, of course. Katie, is everything okay?"

"Yeah Dad, I just could just use your company right now. Do you think we could meet at Remy's at around noon?", she asked

"Sure thing, sweetheart, I'll see you then." He replied softly. She could hear the smile in his voice and it warmed her heart a little bit.

"Thanks, Dad. I'll see you in a couple hours."

She hangs up with him and closes her eyes. She's missed her Dad in these last couple of months. Things have just become so busy with work that she hadn't had the time. Of course, they had talked briefly over the phone at least once a week, but she misses his company.

It had been three years since her father had quit the bottle. Before that it was five long years of coming home to him passed out on the couch and her having to clean him up. Five years of him promising to clean himself up for her. It was many years of screaming matches and bitter tears before finally, she walked away. A few months later she got a call from him telling her that he hadn't picked up a bottle since that night and he still has not to this day.

Ever since then they had been working to build their relationship back up and she was beginning to feel like she almost had her dad back again. She was so grateful that she had not lost him completely. She barely survived the months that she did. She needed her dad. He was all she had. And it was times like these when she was a kid that she would go to her him for advice when something bothered her. She needed that now.

It was around 2:15 when she finally stepped out of her car and onto the curb in front of Remy's. Shit, she was late. Figures.

She pulls her coat tightly around her and she dashes into the diner, scanning the booths for her father. He is sitting in a corner booth, a cup of coffee in his hands and one across the table from him, waiting for her. When he sees her he grins and rises from his seat to greet her, pulling her into a welcoming embrace. God, she's missed her father.

"It's so good to see you Katie. I've missed you", he says, motioning her to take a seat.

"I've missed you too, Dad", she says, a small smile gracing her lips. "I'm sorry I haven't had the time to see you lately. I just get caught up in the work, you know?"

"Yeah, I do." He smiles sadly at her. "You're just like her in that way." Her mother. Always dedicated to her clients.

Kate frowned and shifted her eyes down to stare into her coffee. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Well… not exactly that but…Its related to her…I guess…" She sighed and looked up to her father, the quiet concern in his eyes reflecting back at her.

"Tell me what's going on Katie".

She told him everything about her morning encounter with the man this morning, about his eyes and about his reaction too her, and about how deeply it all struck a cord with her.

"I don't understand it. I mean, I would understand me having sympathy for him and even buying the coffee for him, but the rest…..I mean, it has to be about Mom, right? About me? I just feel this intense need to help him, like I can identify with him, I guess. And I just don't know what to do. I want to help him, I do, but he's just some guy off the streets and…"

"I think you should help him." Her father says calmly.

Kate's eyes shoot to his. "You do?"

"Sure. It doesn't have to be any grand gesture. Just bring him coffee like you did today or try to talk to him. Small things. Just be there. You don't have to explain yourself to help someone. You found someone who is suffering, someone you identify with, and you want to help. That's a good thing, Katie. You have a good heart. Don't question it, because truthfully Katie, he needs you. I think you would have seen that even if your mom were still here."

Kate sat quietly for a long time, mulling over what he just said, her mind flashing images of him behind her eyes and she felt, once again, the tight squeeze of her heart.

"Okay", she said, nodding slowly. "You're right. He needs someone and I am not about to walk away from that", she said, a newfound resolve in her voice.

He grinned at her, his eyes bright, something she hadn't seen in a while. "I'm so proud of you, Katie, Your mom would be proud.

"Thank you, Dad, I love you"

"I love you too. Now go, you have important things to do".

She steps out into the winter evening at around 6, the sun has already disappearing behind the buildings, casting a greyish hue over the city. She takes in a deep breath, the cold air filling her lungs in a way that is refreshing. Lunch had helped her to clear her head. She had a plan now and that alone helped to ease her mind and put the thoughts at bay. She was able to shift her focus back to her work. She was exhausted and was barely paying attention to where she was going, her feet carrying her on their own accord the same route she had walked that morning. Her mind snapped back into focus when she reached the coffee shop. She walked slowly around the corner to peer into the ally. It was covered in shadows to where she almost missed him, but when she walked closer she saw him leaning against that same wall, already fast asleep. He actually looked fairly peaceful and she smiled at the sight. She stayed there watching him until the sun had sunken almost fully, before turning and walking the rest of the distance home. She fell asleep that night with ease.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: I always see fanfiction writers talking about how busy it is to try to write while attending college. I never realized just how true that was until this year. Its either you're too stressed or you're too tired to care haha. Also writer's block is a bitch! Also, I'm really sorry about not getting back to ya'lls' reviews, but we have read and appreciated every single one! Anyways, so sorry this took so long!**_

_** -Ellie**_

He knows he should stop thinking about her. He knows that today was just a one-time thing and that he'll never see her again. That she will forget about him like everyone else always does. But he can't seem to stop. Of course, his stupid, lonely mind won't leave her alone. Her smile and gentleness, her _kindness._. The look in her eye that showed that she actually _cared_. He can still feel the ghost of her touch against his knee. She offered him a warmth, one he had rarely ever gotten. He yearns for that feeling again. The only other times he can remember feeling like that was from a time long ago from his early childhood years - from his mother. From the time when his life was good. A time of safety and home. A place he used to love, even if they were tight on money. But that was before she dropped him off at his uncles house one day when he was six, telling him that that was his home now, that this was better for him. She didn't know the horrors that occurred there, the ones he won't dare to think about. She never believed him. She only promised that she would come and visit often. She kept her visits for up to a year, each time promising him that that one day she'll be back for him for good. But each visit became less and less frequent until she just stopped coming altogether, never kept her promise. He still sometimes wonders sometimes what he did to deserve to be abandoned. He knows its useless to think about. it too much. It only causes more pain and there is no use dwelling on something that he will never have an answer to.

He spends the day drifting in and out of focus, his time divided between discreetly watching the people passing by and thinking about her. He doesn't feel the chill beginning to creep in until the sun starts to set. He shivers and tries to draw his legs up closer to his chest in a futile attempt to block out the cold and thinks back to the same time last year. To a time where at least he was warm and had a bed. And the one other person he had. But that's gone now too - another time he doesn't like to remind himself about. He closes his eyes and tries to will the tumultuous thoughts away and finds himself drifting off to sleep. He dreams that he hears the clack of her heels as he succumbs to sleep, slipping into unconsciousness before it can become anything more.

The first thing she does when she steps through the door is make a beeline for the closet. She rummages through the junk piled up inside, briefly berating herself for being such a packrat as she throws forgotten-about coats and jackets into a large pile behind her. She finally finds what she is looking for in the far back and grins at herself in triumph. She had taken it from her father a few years back when she had still been in the academy and was too broke for her own and too ashamed to ask for money to buy one. He had never asked for it back so she had kept it. She was glad she did. She grabs the jacket and rushes out of the closet to throw it on the bed as she flits around her apartment grabbing various things and adding it to the small pile on the bed. The task takes about thirty minutes and when she is done she stares at the small collection and smiles in satisfaction. She then places the items in a small drawstring bag and dumps it by the door.

She sleeps well that night, all the tumultuous thoughts of that day eased from her mind.

The first thing he registers the next morning is the cocoon of warmth that wraps itself around his body, the second is the decadent smell of freshly-brewed coffee.

He jerks awake and finds himself staring into a familiar set of gorgeous brown-green eyes.

"Kate," he breathes, her name slipping out of his mouth on its own accord, his voice raspy from disuse.

"You remembered." She grins at him and it's absolutely radiant and it makes his heart stutter in his chest in a way that confuses him. _She came back._

He stares at her for a moment and then down at the blanket she had draped over his body. He stares back up at her in shock. "You- this-why-?" he stutters, unable to vocalize his confusion.

"You looked like you needed it," she said simply, regarding him with that same gentle look as the day before.

He nodded his head and swallowed thickly. "Thank you," was all that he could manage to say and he hoped she could see his gratefulness.

"Of course." She looked at him again, a bit of hesitancy crossing her face. "I um…." she glanced down at the duffle he hadn't noticed she was carrying and then back to him. "I brought you some other stuff that I thought you might want."

She set the bag on the ground and slowly began to pull out its contents: A toothbrush, some toothpaste, a razor and shaving cream, shampoo and soap, some granola bars and other small food items, a scarf, some gloves and finally, a coat. A really nice looking coat. And by her feet was another large, steaming cup of coffee.

"The coat and gloves belonged to my dad, which he doesn't use anymore and the scarf is an old one of mine that I thought looked masculine enough. The other stuff, I don't even know if you have a way to use it, but is because I thought you might like to feel clean…..not that I'm calling you dirty, well I am but…" She trailed off before giving herself I self-deprecating laugh._ Shit she doesn't know how to do this._ "What I mean is, I just thought it might make you feel better to get clean and shaven, you know?" She winced, still feeling as though she just put her foot in her mouth.

She saw the corners of his mouth turn up in some small semblance of amusement before he quickly schooled his features and shook his head. "I can't-" he swallows as he begins to take the blanket off of his shoulders, already mourning the loss of warmth. "I can't take this. I appreciate it, really but I-I can't." He turns his head away from her in shame, ready for her to lash out and tell him he's being ungrateful, but it never comes. Instead he feels her fingers halt his movements and draw the blanket back around his shoulders before placing the coffee in his hands.

"You can. I promise. You need them more than I do." She stands then and turns to walk away giving him one more smile. "I have to go to work but I'll see you later." She vanishes around the corner.

_Later._ She's going to come back. He can't help the grin that spreads across his face.

"Thank you," he whispers again. Next time he'll say the words to her.

Maybe he was wrong about her, maybe she wouldn't forget about him. Maybe, just maybe despite everything, he thinks as he picks up one of the granola bars, ripping the packaging off instantly, somebody actually _really _cared about him.

When he takes a sip of the coffee, he sighs deeply. The familiar warmth of it cascades throughout his insides, warming him up even more. It tastes amazing, sugary and bitter, but creamy and strong. But it isn't just the taste, it's what it symbolizes. _Her_. And it fills him up in a way in which there is only one word to describe-_Perfect._

_**Author's Note 2: As Ellie said earlier, sorry for the really long wait. And thank you guys so much for all your kind words in your reviews :) I haven't been swamped with school work like my girl over here, but I have been hit with a bad strain of the flu recently. So I guess that's my excuse. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and we look forward to hearing what you guys think.**_

_** -Your awesome Australian, Tabby**_

_**Authors note 2.2: This one is a bit shorter than we would like but it was actually kind of hard to write.**_

_**No we are not making Martha heartless and we are not trying to completely ruin Rick's life. On the flip side, Kate is not as happy and free as she is at the moment. Things will eventually come together and obviously, get better. Even if there is a fair amount of angst along the way. We hope you'll stick with us!(Even if it takes for-freakin-ever) :)**_

_** -Your friendly Texan, Ellie**_


	4. Chapter 4

_Summery: Richard Rodgers has struggled his whole life. Through his mother's disappearance and being forced to live with his alcoholic uncle, to being forced to live on the streets of New York. He has never known the meaning of home; not until he met her._

Disclaimer: Characters belong to ABC and the wonderful creators and writers of Castle

Kate walked into the precinct feeling elated. His gratitude may have been small and mixed with confusion and a small bit of uncertainty but she could tell it was genuine, that it was a big deal to him. His whispered _thank you_ was proof enough of that. And suddenly she knew that she could do this - that she wanted to make it her goal to make him smile. She found herself with a wide grin spread across her own face as she walked into the bullpen. A contrast to the previous day. Luckily her boys are too deep in some animated discussion to notice.

Her partners were great men, - hard workers, good at their jobs, and loyal. They were like brothers and she loved them. But sometimes, that meant that they acted like them too, and she didn't really feel like being teased today.

She sat down at her desk to begin some paperwork on a cold case that she never got too. But that did not seem to deter her.

However, that smile _is_ quickly wiped off her face by her phone.

"Beckett," she listens into the phone for a few minutes before turning to go to the break room to get the boys. She tries her best to school her face. It fails miserably. "Ryan, Espo, we've got a body."

"Arlight, don't look so happy about it," the young Irish detective, Ryan, grumbles.

"What?" she questions, acting oblivious.

"Oh, c'mon Beckett, You got this grin on your face like you just got the news ever." His partner, Esposito, states, giving her a suspicious look.

Yeah, she really is not in the mood for this.

She rolls her eyes. "You guys are delusional"

"Uh-huh"

It was going to be a long day.

At least today she could focus.

The case was open and shut. An argument gone wrong between a girl and her boyfriend while they were out walking in Central Park. She had shoved him and he had lost his balance, hitting his head on a bench. The girl had cracked instantly, confessing in a manner of seconds, a sobbing mess. Still murder is murder and they always put her in a dark mood. Another life gone, another loved one ripped away. At least she was able to give them the closure she never had.

She sighs and looks at the clock on her computer. It was only about 10 in the morning and paperwork for this case would be quick. Leaving her with another long day at the precinct. Maybe when she was done she would go get some lunch for once. Maybe she would get an extra burger and go visit Rick.

_Rick,_ She thought. It was a nice name and she liked the way the "R" rolled off of her tongue and the sharpness of the "K" sounded as it ended. He looked like a Rick too. Such a funny thing to say but it was true. She was grateful to him too, for sharing it with her. She could see how difficult it was for him to trust people and he looked so surprised and relieved to see her there and it caused that feeling of elation to rise up in her stomach.

She shook her head smiling to herself again as she looked back down at her desk. Yeah, definitely a plan.

"There's that smile again, boss." Ryan commented as he passed by her desk.

"Shut up." But she could not contain her grin. It only caused his to grow.

When she stepped out of the precinct she was thankful that the sun was out. It gave the brisk chill a small amount of warmth and made the usual dullness of winter just a little bit brighter. Just like her mood.

She steps into Remy's, a favorite diner of hers, despite it being in the complete opposite direction, and orders a cheeseburger and fries for herself, and taking a while before choosing a bacon cheeseburger and fries for Rick. Who wouldn't love a bacon cheeseburger? She also orders them each a medium hot chocolate with marshmallows on top just for a change of pace.

She thanks the cashier and grabs the bags and walks out the door. She takes the long walk to daydream about random things, the upcoming holidays, work, _him, _so she is surprised with how quickly she arrives at the corner. She spots him fairly easily. He is sitting partway into the sun to where the early morning light reflects off of his hair turning it a beautiful shade of golden brown. No, she did not just think that.

When she walks closer she realizes that he is writing something furiously in a journal. His eyes and pen flying across the page. He doesn't even notice her as she walks up.

She thinks it's the smell he notices because his head snaps up just as she comes to stand next to him. He snaps the journal shut, immediately hiding it behind him, a pinkish tint rising up his cheeks that is not from the cold. If she's being honest with herself it's kind of adorable. But she brushes the thought aside for his sake and hers. She simply smiles at him as she sits down in front of him, her back leaning against the opposite wall of the ally. He's surprised, to say the least, and it shows on his face.

"Hi," she says, placing his food and chocolate in front of him.

"Uh, hi?" he replies in a questioning tone, blinking a few times as he looks from her to the food, looking a little dazed.

"I see you've shaved," she comments just noticing how refreshed he seemed.

"Yeah, I…yeah," he stammers, still getting over the shock of her sudden appearance.

"So you found a place to go?" she asks, trying to initiate some form of small talk.

He regards her for a second, most likely debating if it was safe enough to answer. He must have decided it was, because after a few seconds he answers.

"Yeah, there's a gym whose owner takes pity on me and lets me use the showers sometimes." The answer is soft and he clears his throat and smiles sheepishly at her.

"That's nice of him," she offers as a petty attempt of a reply.

He nods as he reaches for the bag and pulls out the food, shoving a few fries in his mouth before his eyes widen comically at her, as if he had not realized he had done it. And she can't help the grin that breaks across her face. He just looks back down at his food and slows down his eating.

They eat in silence for a few minutes and she observes him for a moment. His slouched posture like he is still trying to protect himself from someone, and the way he seems to shift his eyes around. Where it looked like defeat just a couple days ago, it now looked like he was warring with himself as to whether or not to trust her. It was like he wanted to but could not quite get himself to do it.

It was going to take a bit of effort on her part. But if that's what it would take, she would do it.

"So… Rick, is it?" She asked, attempting to break the ice a bit.

He met her eyes slowly and gave her a little nod, a shy smile gracing his lips. "Yeah"

She returned his smile and gave him a small nod. "So, Rick, tell me about yourself"

He shrugs and tries to be nonchalant about it. "Not much to tell"

She regards him for a moment, as he shifts his eyes to the ground. "Try me." The prompt is gentle, encouraging, and she smiles warmly.

He meets her eyes and opens his mouth for a second before shutting in, seemingly caught off guard like he was not expecting that reply. He struggles with what to say for a while, not sure of how much he ought to give and what he could trust her with.

"I see you like to write?" she states after a moment.

His shoulders relax and she sees his eyes light up only slightly and it's the closest she has seen to a smile from him. "Yeah, yeah I do".

As she walks back to the precinct she goes over what he had shared with her. I had not been much but he had told her how he likes to write as an escape and that he had been doing it ever since he was a young boy and that he would write stories about the people he saw. She did not press him to explain further on what he meant, not wanting to pressure him, but he seemed to share it easily enough. In turn, she had told her about her love of reading and that it worked in much of the same way for her, and how it became even more so now. She also didn't elaborate and he didn't ask for which she was equally grateful. He looked content to just listen, happy even to have someone to listen _to._ He almost looked eager.

She told him about her job and how she was a cop. And while he was initially weary of that she reassured him that he had no reason to worry and that it was simply her profession.

They did not have much more time after that so she had excused herself, saying she had to get back to work. She got up and picked their trash, smiling as she noticed that not a crumb remained of his. He thanked her just before she started to walk away and the sincerity in his eyes nearly knocked the breath out of her.

She could tell that he was still uncertain as to what she was doing there and why she should care and one day she would tell him, but for now she was simply going to spend her time with him and hopefully he would accept it for what it was. An attempt for friendship. And he seemed like he was getting there.

Over the next few weeks, they continued the same routine. She would bring him coffee and a pastry in the morning, only stopping for a few words, and then again at lunch where she would sit down and try to talk with him. Most of the time it was about meaningless stuff or sometimes they didn't talk at all and would simply eat in a companionable silence. But she noticed as each day passed that he became more and more relaxed and that he would start to open up to him just a little bit more. And it made her feel good, and if she was being honest with herself, better than she had in a long time.

But one day, about half way through their third week, she was walking up with their lunch when she noticed she did not see him. It caught her off guard. Lately, when he started realizing that it would be a routine thing every day, he started to expect her and he would be waiting for her, not quite smiling but she could see the happiness behind his eyes. But he was nowhere in sight today. She stood there for a few minutes and was about to turn around to go back to the precinct when she caught sight of him. He was huddled up almost near the very back of the ally way. He had his legs pulled up to his chest and his head buried into his knees. It was only when she was closer that she realized he was shaking. Her heart plummeted in her chest as she rushed to his side, nearly tripping over the piles of trash bags.

She fell to her knees beside him and almost reached out to touch him before stopping herself, not sure of how he would react. She had no idea what could have brought this on.

"Rick," she rushed out on a breath. He stiffened and only seemed to pull his legs up tighter. "Rick, hey look at me." Without her consent, her hand reached out and griped him on the shoulder to try to get him to meet her eyes. "Please, tell me what happened."

Finally, he lifted his head and met her eyes and the breath rushed out of her.

Tears were streaming down his face, his eyes puffy and red and the beautiful blues were shimmering with grief. He looked at her almost like she wasn't even there for a moment and she had to fight the overwhelming urge to pull him into a hug.

After a few endless moments, he finally spoke.

"They won't let me see her, Kate," he said on a broken whisper. "They won't let me see her."

_**Author's note:**__I am really happy with how this one turned out. We intend to have character development progressing throughout this story so eventually it will sound more and more like the Castle and Beckett we know, or shall I say Castle and Castle now, right!? I would also love for you guys to check out my fanfiction and instagram account: writeyourownhappyending._

_ -Tabby_

_ Tumblr: sheishisnorthstar_

_**Author's note 2:**__ As of now there is not a lot of direct dialog simply because I am new to this and I am trying to get used to writing the characters. Tabby is helping me the best she can but doing this long distance makes it a tad bit difficult. But as this fic goes on I intend to start including much more of that as well as hopefully adding more length to them as well. But his is a learning curve for us so hopefully you guys will bear with us._

_Also. If you have any advice on whether are not someone is in or out of character speaking wise or reaction wise(within the realms of the AU) that would be immensely helpful because honestly, for one have no idea what I am doing and I know I can sometimes overdo it._

_ -Ellie_

_ Tumblr: lord-of-the-song_

_Please check out my other fic account that I have just opened separately as thebazilelord. There's only one story so far but I'd love for you to read!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Ok so this is gonna be as low as it's gonna get concerning Castle for the most part, and it will be mostly uphill from here. I hope you guys are still enjoying this and we haven't pushed ya'll away._

_Sorry for such a long delay again!_

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><p>He couldn't control the sob that ripped from his chest as he sank back down against the wall of the alley, which has now become his home, the pain too much to contain. He manages to recede deeper into the crevice before he completely breaks down, trying to hide from the prying eyes of passing people.<p>

It was a foolish hope to think that they would let him back in, but somehow he had gotten it into his head that he had a chance. Really, it was _her _that would not let him in. Meredith. The women with whom he had the stupid one-night stand with eight years ago that had produced his beautiful little girl. And now, because of something that was not even his fault, she refused to let him see her.

He had gone that morning, right after Kate's morning visit. He had felt so damn good for once in his life. He did not know why she started to visit him every day, breakfast and lunch, barring the few times she would miss an occasional lunch due to work, but he loved those visits, came to look forward to them. And maybe it was that that inspired the confidence in him to go confront Meredith, ask her to see his daughter that he had not seen in close to five months. But she had steadfastly refused, her stubborn, precocious nature preventing her from granting him any sort of reprieve.

So now he is sitting here, crouched in utter despair and defeat, the truth of it finally sinking in that he may have lost her forever.

He does not hear her approach, but when he hears her call his name, he refuses to lift his head. He cannot face her today, cannot let her see how truly of a mess he is. But when he feels her gentle touch at his knee and the tentative call of his name, he cannot hold it in anymore and it all spills from his lips.

"They won't let me see her, Kate. They won't let me see her."

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><p>The absolute despair in his eyes and the broken quality of his voice is like a punch to the gut, and she cannot understand what could be the cause of it.<p>

"Rick, what do you mean? Who's not letting you see whom?" She asks calmly, trying to keep her voice steady to calm him down enough to explain what is going on. "Please, Rick, talk to me."

He shakes is head and squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep, ragged breaths as the tears course down his cheeks. She is floored by how much she just wants to reach out and hug him, to just pull him into her embrace to try to give him some sort of comfort. But she knows that would take it too far and would give the potential for him to retreat even more at her sudden affection. Instead she dares to reach out her hand and cup his cheek, lifting his head to meet his eyes. "It's okay, you can tell me." She says, trying to convey with her eyes that she genuinely cares. He swallows hard, holding eye contact for a few seconds before he slowly nods his head in concession, reaching up to grip her hand with his own.

"I – I have a daughter, Alexis," he whispers on a shaky breath. "She's seven and she – we – used to live together at this shelter down in the Bronx, her, her mother, and I. Her mother was always flighty and Alexis wasn't planned, but, you know, she noticed me and we had this fling and Alexis came out of it, so we stayed to try to raise this daughter. And I know that conditions weren't the best for a child and Meredith was more absent than there but we did the best we could and I loved Alexis so much. She was the light of my life you know?" he gives a self-deprecating smile and takes a breath. She gives him the time he needs, gently stroking her thumb at his cheekbone in encouragement.

"But then, about five months ago, there was this expensive piece of jewelry that Meredith had that got stolen and I had happened to get a lot of money in tips from the job that I had at the time so of course she accused me of stealing it and pawning it off for cash. And not really having anyway to prove otherwise, they kicked me out and I got fired from my job. And she was so furious with me that she forbid me to ever see her again, saying that I didn't deserve her." His voice cracks as a few more tears slip down his cheeks. "I thought that after all this time that she would have forgiven me but…" he shakes his head, unable to finish the statement and he looks so hopeless and lost that it breaks her heart all over again.

"Oh, Rick, that's – that's awful I am so so sorry." She whispers, completely unsure now of what she is supposed to say or how to make it better. The one idea that pops into her head is probably not nearly enough and she is not quite sure she is ready to share it yet. But he had just bared his soul to her and it would only be fair for her to return the gesture. Trust for trust.

"I can't – I don't know if this helps at all but, I can understand part of what you're feeling.

"A hardened look crosses his face, and it's the first time that she has ever seen that emotion from him but it only hardens her resolve to tell him. "How can you possibly understand what this is like?" he bites out.

She sighs and looks him in the eyes. "I don't. Not completely. But I do know loss."

His eyes soften slightly as looks of confusion and interest cross his face. "What do you mean?"

"A few years ago –", she closes her eyes and takes a breath, "A few years ago my mother was murdered. Stabbed in an alley much like this one." She sees the shock in his eyes and he is about to open his mouth to say something but she continues before her will disappears. "We were supposed to meet her for dinner, my dad and I, but she never showed. We went home a few hours later thinking that she must have gotten busy and forgotten. But when we arrived, there was this detective waiting. He told us that she had been killed. They only kept the investigation open for a few days before they decided to attribute it to gang violence and the killer was never caught. But we knew that wasn't right. All her money and jewelry were still there, but they just ignored every plea to continue, simply saying that there was nothing more they could do." She comes to the end of her story and she has to close her eyes to stem the emotion that is threatening to swell up within her. This wasn't about her. This was about giving him a piece of her, letting him know that he is not alone.

He studies her for a while, his bright blue eyes shimmering with gratefulness and some other emotion that she can't name. "Thank you," he rasps "for sharing that with me." He removes her hand from his face, squeezing it lightly before letting it go.

She gives him a small smile. "I know it's not going to really fix anything but…just know that I understand."

He's quiet for a while and she lets him have a moment. After a while he speaks again. "It may not be able to fix it but…it's nice to know I'm not alone, and that means a lot to me." He looks like he wants to say something more but he remains quiet, eventually breaking eye contact, shifting his eyes to stare at his hands that are now resting limp in his lap.

They sit in silence for a long time, the burgers now forgotten and cold beside them. She knows she should get back to work but she cannot just leave him here like this alone.

"Is there anything I can do? Anything you need? Anything at all?" She asks quietly, desperate to take his pain away. She had long stopped asking where this deep seeded care came from, admitting to herself that she just _did._

He looks at her sadly, giving her a joyless smile as he shakes her head. "No, what you've done already is enough, there's nothing more you can do."

"Okay," she murmurs. She checks her phone and then blows out a breath. She should have been back at the precinct half an hour ago and the boys are texting her asking her where she is.

"Do you have to go?" He asks.

"Yeah, I do. I'm sorry," she sighs, and even she can hear the regret in her voice.

"It's okay, I understand. You've been here a long time. I'm sorry I kept you and made you listen to my problems."

"No." she says quickly. "Don't apologize for needing a friend."

The smile he gives her this time, though small, is genuine and she feels the tightness in her grip loosen ever so slightly. "I do really have to go. But I promise I'll be back tomorrow, just like always." She sees his shoulders relax a little bit, the tension in his body releasing at her promise like he was really worried he had pushed her away after this. But it had only strengthened her resolve to help him.

She does not even think before placing a light kiss on his forehead as she stands to leave and the look of surprise and gratitude on his face is enough to fuel her through the long trek back to the precinct.

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><p>He had never felt more ashamed in his life, he thinks, when he unleashes his heart to her and how pathetic it makes him sound and how totally screwed up his life really is. But once again, she had been so understanding of him and so compassionate. She had shared her own story with him. Her mother had been murdered and the killer was never caught. He did not even begin to understand it or how she was able to move past it. She seemed so confident. But he meant it when he said that it made him feel less alone – knowing someone else had similar pain made it a little bit better somehow, and he knows that sounds mean and he would never wish that kind of pain on someone like her. But it helps him see that people's lives run deeper than what they appear to be. It's something he's always known but it's never been as important to him as it is now.<p>

He was feeling so unequal compared to her before, her giving him so much and him having nothing to give in return. And now he feels that they have some sort of equal ground. It's only a small comfort, but it's something he will try to hold onto because God knows he does not have much to hold onto now.

He wanted to ask Kate so badly for her to go to the shelter, use her badge or something to convince Meredith to at least let him _see _her. Even for just one more time. But he knows that he cannot ask that of her, knows it's an abuse of her power. But most of all it's because she has done so much for him already for no reason at all. And he cannot bring himself to ask her that question either. Why?

He wishes that she were still here, her presence the only thing capable of keeping away the aching darkness that was threatening to swallow him whole. He holds onto her promise of tomorrow and he can still feel the ghost of her kiss on his forehead and it is such a strange comfort because of how intimate and caring it was. How genuine.

So many thoughts and emotions tumble through him that he has to get them out. He takes out the small journal he keeps with him and just writes. Writes of Alexis, of his confusion - of her. He writes anything and everything that will come to his mind until the words run dry. But it does not keep him from falling asleep with a heavy heart because he is not sure if there is a way that she could ever fix the new hole that has been bored into his heart.

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><p>"What took you so long, boss?" Espo asks with a smirk as she rushes through the doors of the twelfth just a little past one.<p>

"Just had something come up that I had to deal with." She dismisses quickly, not really wanting to get into it with the boys at the moment.

"Woah, are you okay?" Ryan asks with concern, obviously sensing her distress.

"Nothing you need to worry about," she clips. They look taken aback and confused at her sudden harshness and she sighs. "I'll tell you about it sometime but not right now. Let's just get back to the case. What have you guys got?"

They nod, conceding to the fact that she is not going to talk and they leave the topic alone, filling her in on the double homicide that they had been working on over the past few days. They were getting absolutely nowhere with it and the captain was threatening to close it down if they did not find anything solid within the next two days. And that just made her even more stressed. Not to mention the added sadness that fell heavy on her heart when she told him of her mother, but that was not important.

She was able to push Rick to the back of her head as they ran down lead after lead, each one leading them to even more nothing and by the end of the day, she was just emotionally drained.

When she finally trudges into her apartment at around eight that night, she collapses on the couch with exhaustion and everything she was holding at the back of her mind suddenly floods to the forefront of her mind. What the hell was she supposed to do? She knew he was in a terrible position but she had absolutely no idea that it was like this. Losing a daughter to something that was not even his fault. Of course, he could be lying but there was something about him that just made her seem to trust what he was saying. And the part of her that is always wanting to seek justice and solace for people was running strong through her veins.

She picks up her phone and pulls up the internet. She searches for the shelter he mentioned he was staying at. She finds it and pulls up its number. She hesitates for a moment, her finger hovering over the screen for a few seconds, briefly wondering if she is overstepping, before she finally pushes 'call.'

"Hi, this is Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD. May I speak to the person in charge?"

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><p><em>Please read and review!<em>


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